


lift me up

by greenbergsays



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Body Dysphoria, Body Worship, Canon Compliant, Knotting, M/M, Omega Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 14:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12913407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenbergsays/pseuds/greenbergsays
Summary: Steve worries that Bucky preferred his smaller, more Omega-appropriate body to the new, bigger, more Alpha-like body of Captain America.Bucky finds that thought utterly ridiculous.





	lift me up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dulcetine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulcetine/gifts).



> Written for **dulcetine** / **mapimipi** as part of the Fandom Loves Puerto Rico charity auction!
> 
> She requested a porny ABO AU with big!Steve feeling insecure about his body and Alpha!Bucky comforting him.

“Bit big for an Omega, isn’t he?”

The group of girls had passed him on the sidewalk. Giggling and leaning into each other, gossiping about whatever it is girls these days gossiped about. One of them had done a double-take when he brushed by them, but Steve hadn’t thought much about that.

He had wrongly assumed that she’d just recognized Captain America. Her whispered question to the others had disabused him of that notion. When he heard it, he missed his next step and stumbled.

The rest of the girls burst into giggles as they turned the street corner.

She hadn’t meant for him to hear it. They were already well out of the range of any normal Omega’s hearing by the time she’d asked it. But heard it, he had.

Steve stayed rooted to the sidewalk for a long moment, his grocery bag hanging from numb fingers. Something cold and tight gripped his chest.

It wasn’t the first time someone had asked that question. He’d heard it more than once since he stepped out of Stark’s machine in a Brooklyn basement all those years ago. The frequency didn’t make it any easier to deal with, though.

The serum had helped Steve more than he could ever say, but in this regard, he felt cheated.

Growing up, he’d never presented; he’d never been healthy enough for it. But despite that, everyone had always assumed that he was a Beta. Even as sick as he was, if he’d been an Omega, he would’ve had a heat once he reached maturity. That was how Omegas presented in the first place: the heat.

But for Steve, sixteen had come and gone without a heat. So had seventeen and eighteen. By the time he was twenty, it had solidified in his mind. He was a Beta.

It was only when Dr. Erskine and Howard Stark had come into his life that he found out differently. It seemed cruel that the serum which allowed him to be healthy enough to have his first heat would be the same serum that gave him such a huge body.

He smelled like an Omega now, but he looked like an Alpha.

Around him, he saw a few passersby glance at him, just like the girls had. But now, he didn’t assume that they recognized Captain America. Now, with every set of eyes that landed on him, he heard that question echo in his head.

_Bit big for an Omega, isn’t he?_

His cheeks burned with shame, embarrassment.

Lowering his head, Steve started to move again, but this time, he walked just a little faster toward home.

*

Bucky Barnes considered himself to be a patient man.

He knew that there was something wrong with Steve. He’d known it since Steve had walked through the front door. Even if he hadn’t caught the the acrid scent of distress on his mate, Bucky would’ve known it by his posture. Steve’s shoulders were hunched, drawn up near his ears, and his head was hung low. His gaze was trained on the floor and beyond the odd glance, that’s where it stayed.

He hadn’t been distressed when he left, though. He’d just gone to the corner store, there and back in five minutes. Whatever had happened during those five minutes stayed with him for the rest of the day.

Every instinct told Bucky to demand answers. He wanted to ask what was wrong and then find whoever was responsible for making Steve smell like this. He wanted to make them _pay_.

But this was Steve. Demanding Steve to do anything rarely worked in his favor. Left to his own devices, though, Steve would usually come clean on his own. He just needed the time and space to make that decision for himself.

So Bucky waited.

He waited while he finished cooking dinner. He waited through the tense, uncomfortable silence as they ate. He waited through more silence as they cleaned up together. He planned to wait all night, to use every ounce of patience he’d learned as the Soldier to get him through it.

But as soon as the kitchen was clean, Steve did not head for the living room, where they usually tried to get through an item or two of their Netflix queue before bed. Instead, he made a break for the bedroom. He was going to try and hide.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Bucky threw the damp hand towel he’d been using to dry dishes with onto the counter. There’d been enough waiting.

He followed Steve to the bedroom.

The door stood ajar, as if Steve had heard him coming and left it open for him. Inside, Steve had already stripped off his shirt. He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, keeping his gaze low as he moved around the room. He avoided glancing at the mirrors in such a way that Bucky could tell he was doing it on purpose.

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe.

“You gonna tell me about it?” He asked. “Or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?”

Steve glanced at him for just a second before looking away again. He approached his own dresser, putting his back to Bucky as he began to rummage through it.

“It’s nothing,” he said, but he was lying. They both knew it.

Bucky snorted. He pushed away from the doorframe and slowly made his way to Steve.

“Sweetheart,” he said, resting his hands on Steve’s hips when he was close enough. “You’ve been mopin’ around all evening like you accidentally kicked a puppy. Just tell me what it is so I can make it better, yeah? Don’t make me annoy it out of you.”

He pressed a little closer, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. The room was silent for several long moments as Steve tried to decide what he wanted to do. Finally, he closed the dresser drawer without taking anything out of it. His hands came to rest lightly on top of it, but he still didn’t look in the mirror.

“Do you --” He started and then stopped, taking in a deep, fortified breath. “Do you miss when I was smaller?”

Bucky’s hands fell away from Steve’s hips. He swayed back a step from the unexpected shock of such a question.

“ _What?_ ”

Finally, Steve looked up into the mirror and their gazes met. He looked so _earnest_ and perhaps a little saddened by his own question.

“Do you ever wish I hadn’t gotten the serum?” He asked. He tried to sound strong, but Bucky heard the tremor in his voice. “That I wasn’t -- that I didn’t look like this?”

He gestured to his exposed arms and chest, the defined muscle on display. As Bucky watched, Steve glanced at his own body in the mirror and the sadness in his gaze turned to shame. His cheeks flushed.

“Where the hell is this coming from?” Bucky asked, his voice incredulous but hushed.

“Just answer the question, Buck,” Steve said. “I can take it.”

Bucky put a hand on his arm, tugging to turn him around, and Steve didn’t resist. He slowly turned until they were face to face, mere inches apart. He wasn’t brave enough to look Bucky in the eye until Bucky tucked a finger under his chin and lifted his head. When their eyes met, Bucky just shook his head.

“You’re a dumbass, y’know that?” He said softly. “Don’t know how you could ask me that kind of question. Do I wish you never had the serum? That’s like asking me if I miss watching you have an asthma attack and knowin’ there’s not a damn thing I can do to prevent it. Askin’ if I miss hearing the rattle in your chest every winter, if I miss the way fear made me fuckin’ _sick_ every time you shivered or sneezed or coughed. If I miss wondering if this is it -- if this is the fever that’s gonna take you away from me.”

Steve’s gaze softened considerably.

“Buck,” he whispered, but no. Steve had done enough talking, asking stupid shit like that.

Bucky shook his head.

“Do I wish you were small again?” He asked. “Do I miss you bein’ sick all the time and mad about it? Or do I miss the way you picked a fight with anything that breathed because you thought you had somethin’ to prove? How many broken bones did I have to mend, hm? How many times did I have to have to clean your own blood off you? Now look at you. You’re whole and you’re healthy and you still got somethin’ to prove, but you’re a lot harder to break. You can actually hold your own in a fight now, too.”

Steve blushed. “Jerk,” he mumbled.

Bucky grinned, taking Steve by the hips again to draw him closer. He didn’t stop pulling until they were flush together. Their lips met in a soft kiss.

“There ain’t nothing wrong with you way you look,” Bucky murmured. “Don’t know why you’d be thinkin’ that in the first place.”

Steve shrugged awkwardly.

“Omegas aren’t supposed to look like this,” he said. “I’m too -- I’m too _big_. I look like an Alpha.”

Bucky’s expression twisted into one of disgust.

“Who the fuck said that?” He said. “Cause that sure as hell doesn’t sound like _you_.”

Steve looked away.

“It was just some girls on the street,” he said. “I passed by them on my way back from the store and I heard one of them say it to the other. That I was too big for an Omega. And sometimes I can’t help but think -- you chose me before the serum. What if...what if you only still want me because I smell like your mate? And not because --”

“Let me stop you right there,” Bucky said, “because I’m fairly certain you’re about to say something disparaging about my character.”

Steve shook his head, opening his mouth to perhaps protest or maybe to make another argument, but Bucky didn’t let him. He took Steve’s face in his hands and kissed him again. He took his time this time, kissing his mate slowly, deeply. One hand dropped to Steve’s waist, wrapping around it to pull him closer, until they were flush against one another. He pulled back, nipping Steve’s bottom lip playfully, and it earned him a soft, hungry moan. Bucky leaned back in for another deep kiss.

When he finally pulled away again, Steve’s breathing was louder, heavier. He was getting hard between them and the air was thick was the scent of his arousal. He was getting wet; Bucky could smell that, too.

And that was just fine, because that scent was making Bucky’s dick throb. He was an Alpha, after all. They were built to please their mates.

“You’re gorgeous,” Bucky whispered to him and his voice was low, rough. “You were gorgeous when I claimed you and you’re gorgeous now. Don’t much matter to me how big or small you are. Every time I look at you, I just can’t believe my fuckin’ luck. And this body -- you should be proud of this body.”

He ran a hand down Steve’s arms, watching the progress of his fingers.

“These gorgeous arms,” he murmured. “Love when you cuddle up to me at night. Love it even more when you use all the strength in ‘em to keep me in bed in the morning, ‘cause you’re a whiny little asshole before you’ve had coffee, aren’t ya? I used to be able to break that hold so easily, but not anymore. I love that you match me now, strength for strength. You expect me to do anything but love these arms when they show me how much you need me?”

When his fingers reached Steve’s wrist, he took it in his hand and brought Steve’s fingers to his lips, kissing the knuckles, the tip of each finger. His eyes met Steve’s again.

“These hands,” he said between kisses. “You’ve always had strong hands, but they’re even stronger now. These hands held me together when I couldn’t remember my own fuckin’ name. How could I do anything but love ‘em?”

“Bucky,” Steve protested. He was blushing so fiercely now, his face beet red, and that flush was spreading to his neck and shoulders, down his chest.

“Hush up now,” Bucky said. “You asked me a question. I’m just givin’ you the answer.”

He lowered Steve’s hand back down to his side before moving to unbutton his pants. He slid them down Steve’s legs, kneeling to help Steve out of them completely. Steve’s cock -- small, but hard -- was right in front of his face but Bucky ignored it in favor of trailing his fingertips gently up and down Steve’s thighs.

“These beautiful legs,” he said. “You ran after me with these legs. Saved me from Zola, had to practically carry me the first half of our march back to camp. You did it again after you broke my programming. Chased me all across the world and you did it with these legs.”

He leaned forward and kissed one muscular thigh, cupping the back of Steve’s legs and squeezing lightly.

“I remember how you used to look,” he said, standing slowly. He let his hands trail the length of Steve’s body as he did. “You were so thin everywhere. Felt like I was going to break you every time I touched you. I had to be so careful, but I couldn’t let you know that I was bein’ careful. But now -- now, god, sweetheart. You don’t know what it’s like being able to roughhouse with you and know for sure that I won’t hurt you. Don’t know how good it feels to have these strong arms and strong legs wrapped around me when I’m inside you.”

Bucky grinned suddenly, running his fingers teasingly across Steve’s stomach.

“And all that,” he said. “All that is just the things you’ve always had, the parts of your body that I loved back then and that I love now. Doesn’t even touch on what you’ve got now that you didn’t before. The new things about this body that I love.”

His hands moved up to cup Steve’s chest, his thumbs brushing over each nipple. He leaned in close to kiss Steve’s jaw.

“Like these tits,” he whispered, squeezing lightly. “You didn’t have these before for me to play with. But Jesus, baby, do I love to play with ‘em now.”

He ducked down to take a nipple into his mouth and Steve choked out a shocked, hot moan. Bucky suckled lightly before scraping his teeth across it. It earned him a whine. He laved the nub with his tongue, soothing the pain.

“You’re sensitive now, too,” Bucky murmured, dragging his lips up slowly. Kissing his chest and neck. “You didn’t use to be, but now it doesn’t matter where I touch you. Gets you goin’ every time. You’re so damn easy and I love it.”

And it was true. Between them, Steve’s cock was flushed a deep red, throbbing and hard. The tip was wet and there were trails of precome dripping down the short length of him. The scent of his arousal was thick in the air and Bucky knew that if he slid his fingers between Steve’s cheeks right this moment, he’d find a wet hole as well. He could smell the slick. Just from this -- just from the teasing.

He took Steve’s mouth in another deep, hungry kiss, pulling him closer. Steve whined into the kiss, tugging impatiently at Bucky’s clothes.

“Wanna fuck you,” Bucky whispered against his lips.

Steve nodded frantically.

“Yeah,” he babbled. “Yeah, that -- do that. _Now_.”

He continued to tug at the clothes separating them until Bucky, grinning, took a step back and stripped off his shirt in one swift movement.

“Get on the bed, sweetheart,” he said. “On your belly.”

He took off the rest of his clothes, watching as Steve obeyed. He knelt on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed, going down on his elbows as he spread his legs wide and arched his ass. His hole glistened in the low lighting, confirming what Bucky had already smelled. Steve was wet -- _very_ wet.

Bucky groaned, taking himself in hand and stroking his cock as he looked at the vision his mate made. At the base of his cock, his knot throbbed.

“ _God_ ,” Bucky hissed.

He let go of his cock and joined Steve on the bed, kneeling behind him. Taking Steve’s ass in his hand, he squeezed and massaged slowly before spreading it apart to get a better look at his hole. He rubbed two fingers against his mate’s slick hole before sinking them inside. Steve moaned breathlessly, pushing back onto them.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” Bucky murmured, his nostrils flaring as he took in the scent of it again. The feel of Steve’s wet arousal, his warm, tight hole around Bucky’s fingers -- it had his knot aching with the need to be inside. “You remember, doll? Remember when you couldn’t get wet for me? You weren’t healthy enough. We had to use lube. I remember, after the serum -- I remember the first time I could smell that you wanted me. When I could smell that you were wet for me, just like you are now.”

That night -- that had been a night to remember. The need to be with his mate had been as vital as any heat and Steve hadn’t helped matters any when he melted into Bucky’s every touch, just like he did now.

It spoke to the primal parts of Bucky’s mind, the parts that said _mate_ and _mine_ and _claim_.

“Don’t tease,” Steve begged, his voice pained and hungry.

He rocked back into each movement of Bucky’s fingers, head thrown back in pleasure. He was gorgeous, a vision of an Omega. Perfect and open and hungry, every inch of him begging to be satisfied. Begging to be mounted, knotted. He asked for it with the perfect arch of his hips and back, with every whine and moan, every labored breath. Every gorgeous, perfectly sculpted muscle was tensed, straining for satisfaction that only Bucky give.

It was true, Steve looked nothing like what society sold as _the ideal Omega_. That type of Omega was slim and short and thin, the way Steve used to be. It was everything Steve wasn’t now. Now, Steve was broad-shouldered and muscled and just a little bit taller than Bucky when they stood toe to toe.

But here, now, in this moment -- Bucky had never seen anything like his mate. He was momentarily struck dumb by the vision Steve made.

Steve was exquisite. He was stunning. He was perfect.

And he was all of that not because of the shape of his body -- small or tall, thin or muscled. No, he was perfect because he was _Bucky’s_. Because Bucky had fallen head over heels for a blonde, wheezing angel of fury when they were both too young to even know what love was and because he hadn’t looked back since, not for a second.

Steve’s body, his scent -- it enticed Bucky not because of a particular quality to it or because Bucky had been inexplicably drawn to it. It enticed because it was _Steve’s_ body and _Steve’s_ scent.

“God,” Bucky breathed out. “You’re too much, sweetheart. Too fuckin’ much.”

He finally withdrew his fingers, taking his swollen, throbbing cock in hand and guiding it into his mate’s wet heat. Steve cried out raggedly as Bucky sank into him, hips jerking in Bucky’s bruising grasp. Seconds later, Bucky caught the scent of his mate’s release. He’d come just from this.

Primal satisfaction flare hot and bright in his chest. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, of course. The serum had given Steve a hair trigger. He was so sensitive everywhere and to every touch. It was easy to get him going and easy to sate him. Even still, the reality of satisfying his mate was intoxicating.

“Don’t stop,” Steve begged. “Please -- don’t stop.”

Bucky leaned forward, pushing Steve’s laxing body into the mattress. He didn’t stop until his mate was completely blanketed by him, his hips flush against Steve’s ass. Steve turned his head, whining, and Bucky gave him the hungry kiss he yearned for.

“I won’t,” he promised as he started to rut inside his mate. He kissed Steve’s jaw, nuzzled behind his ear, bit at his neck. “Not until I knot you.”

Steve whined, nodding his agreement.

They didn’t tie every time. As much as they both craved it, it just wasn’t feasible. There wasn’t always time. But there was nothing in the world like it, pressing deep and allowing his knot to tie them together. Nothing satisfied quite like that did.

Bucky always craved it and denying himself that satisfaction was always a fight. He didn’t have to deny himself now.

The air between them was thick, hot. Their sweat-slick skin slid together easily, tingling lips brushing with every rough thrust. They shared the same air more than they kissed properly and when they did manage, it was sloppy. Steve’s fingers were twisted in his hair, tugging as he moaned breathlessly into Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky’s knot was swollen and aching, growing bigger with every deep thrust until it wasn’t quite so easy to pull out of his mate as it had been to begin with. Even with Steve so wet and open for him, his knot began to catch on the rim of his mate’s hole. Every time Bucky pulled out of him now, Steve whined from the stretch.

“Please,” he begged. “ _Please_.”

Bucky knew what he wanted, what they both wanted. He was built to satisfy, to give his mate everything he craved, and right now his mate craved his knot.

He reached under Steve to stroke his cock, now hard once again. He thrust deeply into his mate, grinding as he finally gave in and allowed his knot to tie them. Steve spurted in his hand, his hole tightening on the swollen knot inside him.

“ _Fuck_.”

Bucky groaned, dropping his head to rest on Steve’s shoulder as his own orgasm washed over him. It was several long, pleasure-drunk minutes before he had the presence of mind to move again and even then, he only moved enough to kiss the back of Steve’s neck. His knot was still swollen inside his mate and it would be for a while yet.

“You’re _mine_ ,” he murmured breathlessly. “And you’re fuckin’ perfect to me. Every gorgeous inch of you. D'you believe me?”

Underneath him, Steve hummed in that absurdly pleased way that people do when they’ve been thoroughly fucked.

“Maybe,” Steve mumbled.

His voice was sleepy and satisfied and the sound of it made that hot, primal pride flare in Bucky’s chest again. He smiled absently, biting his lip against a moan as he clenched around Bucky’s knot again. Bucky swore, tightening his hold on Steve as he tried to thrust deeper.

“Think you might need to show me again.”

Bucky laughed breathlessly against his neck.

“I can do that, sweetheart,” he promised. “As many times as you need.”

Steve’s smile widened.


End file.
